


Wake (me) up

by lothya



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Deviant!Connor, Feels, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lime? I guess, M/M, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), RK900 is a virgin, weird porn (or not)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29314695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lothya/pseuds/lothya
Summary: Connor studied the cold, blue-eyed face - his face! - and felt strange, tingling emotion settle inside, the one he couldn't quite put down. The newer model lacked an emotion emulation interface, but seemed to surpass him in every other aspect (they even made 900 bigger, taller and wider in shoulders); still, the sensation couldn’t be boiled down to a sole feeling of inferiority.It was almost like he couldn’t stand being around a non-deviant android anymore; it contradicted everything Marcus and him were fighting so hard for. But also… he never got much of an android company at work. So, a perspective to finally have a friendly face which bleeds the same blue color was reassuring.
Relationships: Connor & Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Connor & Sumo, Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Sumo
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Wake (me) up

**Author's Note:**

> A post-Peaceful Android Revolution story, in which the famous deviant meets the machine designed to hunt the the deviants.  
> Subtle touches, kisses and belly rubs for Sumo ensue.
> 
> Canon divergence: we get both RK800 and RK900 to work alongside Hank.  
> Minor canon-typical violence and swearing, be warned.

When a new RK900 arrived at the precinct, no one was more surprised than Connor.

People talked, people whispered; Gavin Reed played his little you-shit-make-me-a-coffee game as soon as the new machine presented itself (to Reed's immense joy, the android obliged without any second thought).

Connor studied the cold, blue-eyed face - his face! - and felt strange, tingling emotion settle inside, the one he couldn't quite put down. The newer model lacked an emotion emulation interface, but seemed to surpass him in every other aspect (they even made 900 bigger, taller and wider in shoulders); still, the sensation couldn’t be boiled down to a sole feeling of inferiority.

It was almost like he couldn’t stand being around a non-deviant android anymore; it contradicted everything Marcus and him were fighting so hard for. But also… he never got much of an android company at work. So, a perspective to finally have a friendly face which bleeds the same blue color was reassuring.

...With all that heavy tangle in mind he finally snatched an opportunity to talk to RK900 alone in the breakroom.

\- Hi. My name's Connor, - Connor stretched his hand for a handshake, but 900 didn't return the gesture and stood still, examining Connor’s open palm suspiciously. - Have you been named? - Connor let his hand down.

\- Dick, - and there was Reed again, with his wry smirk. - His name’s Dick. Dick, make me a coffee. - RK900 turned around silently, picked a plastic cup and started making the brew. - Finally, an android to function properly. 

The self-indulgent look on Gavin's face stirred Connor’s contempt for the man.

\- With all due respect, - he retorted, - your pathological inability to use the coffee machine is not making you look good, detective.

\- Shut. Up, - Gavin smiled right in his face, pucking the cup from the hands of RK900, who finished his task and was now standing patiently, watching the quarrel without any particular interest.

Suddenly, a small jerking movement almost sent his coffee right into Connor's face, but… a lightspeed reaction from RK900 stopped Gavin's hand.

\- Detective Reed, - Richard spoke for the first time. - Any further attempts to harass colleagues on your behalf will be reported, - Connor noted how RK900's voice was deeper, more menacing than his.

Yes, Cyberlife did a good job making him formidable; absentmindedly he noticed he almost envied the imposing aura the new android possessed.

\- Screw you both, - Reed shook his hand free and made a slow, loud sip from the cup. Then turned around and left with a loud bang of the door.

\- Don't mind him, - Connor started as the door stopped shaking.

\- I do not. I'm not equipped with _additional_ emotional capabilities, - RK900 stated in the same cold emotionless tone.

Connor had nothing to say to that, so he nodded silently. The talk wasn't going smoothly; blue-eyed android was now studying him closely, and its gaze was not a bit friendly.

\- I understand that you intended to transfer the RA9 virus to my system, - he continued.

\- It's not… - Connor trailed off. In all fairness, it _was_ a virus.

\- I'd rather you didn't try that. I don't want my software compromised, - the menacing note in Richard’s voice made Connor slouch and back down one step. - Have a nice day, detective, - the android concluded, and nothing in his face suggested even a little smile.

***

...It didn't take Connor too long to fail spectacularly in the newer model's eyes. 

He knew immediately the day wouldn't be great when he found himself stuck in the back of the DPD van next to apathetic RK900 (who looked way, way better in a bulletproof vest then Connor did), forced to listen to Reed's chatter about his barhopping feats to the officer behind the wheel. Gavin got to the second glass in the second bar when Connor felt the carefully calculated weight of RK900's heavy hand lay on his shoulder.

\- We should connect to facilitate information exchange during the mission, - Richard was scanning him; his LED was blinking an occasional yellow despite his face looking solemnly unconcerned.

Connor nodded. He started rolling up his camo sleeve (God, he hated camo), but RK900 didn't move. It dawned on Connor the machine didn't trust him.

\- I'm not going to… wake you up. Promise, - Connor extended his hand towards Richard, retracting the synthskin to show the bare plastic, letting him initiate the contact first.

With lingering doubt slowing down the gesture RK900 reached for Connor's forearm with tips of his fingers.

Since Connor went deviant, there was a deal of intimacy in each connection of such - a tickling sensation of another being penetrating his firewall, declaring its will to the extent Connor would allow it. He rarely got this with Hank, no matter how deep their relationship went.

For RK900, however, it was little more than routine data exchange. He paid seemingly no attention to the slight change in Connor's face when their hands touched, and was content with just sharing temporary radio frequencies and a street plan.

_ > Your role is to stay on backup position 11 providing cover until ordered out. Get that? _

_ > Yes… Affirmative. _

Connor noded, despite the lack of need for non-verbal communication. At least they didn't expect him to storm the building like Reed suggested last week. He got a coin out of his pocket, and started fiddling it in his fingers.

RK900 seemingly lost all interest towards his partner and went dormant again; for the rest of the ride only a small whirring feeling of an active connection in Connor's mind reminded him of Richard’s presence.

***

It went bottom up while RK900 chased the armed suspect through the secluded alley. 

From his backup point 11 Connor could see most vividly a girl with dark hair and large terrified eyes suddenly appear before him, falling on her knees, covering her head with bruised hands.

_ > Richard, there's a civilian on your path, do you copy? _

_ > ...Visual confirmed. _

Connor was scanning the street again when the loud ratchet of assault rifle fire made the girl jump and run for cover towards the nearest trash can.

_ > I'm sending ballistic trace analysis data indicating a possible hideout spot. _

_ > Affirmative. Stay in cover, group beta is being dispatched. _

Another round struck sparks from the trash can, forcing the girl to move back, closer to Connor’s hideout..

_ > They're trying to get her in your way! _

And then another round hit the girl's ankle. Bleeding, she fell on her knees again and covered her head. Connor felt his hand twitch as he started preconstructing the rescue move, but RK900’s intrusion into his thoughts interrupted him.

_ > RK800, stay in cover. _

Another round hit the girls shoulder, forcing her to crawl towards Connor’s hideout. He couldn’t take his eyes off the poor girl’s scared face.

_ > They are butchering her!!! _

_ > It’s just an android. Stay put, it’s an order. _

Still unable to look away from the girl smeared in blue blood with her LED flashing deep red, Connor felt a powerful whiplash of that simple fact stated obnoxiously plainly. All those “durable”, “replaceable”, “disposable”, whispered carefully behind his back, were thrown right in his face by the only person who had the slightest chance to understand him to the fullest...

_ > RK800, you’re unstable, calm down. _

_ > Calm down my ass. _

And Connor jumped out of cover, right into the bullet storm.

He tumbled awkwardly, and grabbed the girl, giving her cover behind his reinforced back. The look of awe on the girl's face was precious; she clinged to Connor’s waist, hiding her face in his chest.

_ > RK800, retreat immediately! _

He now understood he didn’t assess the situation properly. There were at least two gunmen hidden in the alley, and they had an edge now that he was in open sight. Still holding the girl, he tried to get back to cover, but the bullet through his thigh interrupted the move, stripping him off of much needed impulse. So, instead he grouped, covering the girl with his body; he retracted his synthskin at the spot where their cheeks touched, and felt the girl calm down instantly. “ _It’s ok_ ”, he whispered to her through their fleeting bond of an accidental touch, “ _I got you_ ”; the girl responded with quiet, meek acknowledgement.

He heard four steady, calculated shots, and the rumble of assault rifle fire stopped abruptly. “Good thing they’ve decided to hand out bulletproof vests,” Connor thought to himself as presumably Reed’s strong hands turned him over and dragged away from the alley, towards the police van. Reed didn’t like him, but he at least had enough decency to help out the wounded partner; Reed wasn’t a bad officer, and Connor was more than happy to be reminded of that.

And next to the van there was Hank in tactical camo leaning over him (the sight was so eerie that Connor considered running a quick check on his visual subsystem for a second or two) with a fresh bruise on his face indicating he was participating in the operation too.

\- They called in the backup, got every head on board, - Hank put his palm over Connor’s LED, still jarring between yellow and occasional red. This was the closest to the android handshake he could get, and Connor appreciated that; he closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the sensation. - How are you?

\- They knew I was there. They… - he trailed off, and his LED blinked bright red once again. His wound wasn’t critical, but his thoughts still darted around in disarray.

\- It’s okay, kid. You did good, - Hank’s palm caressed Connor’s forehead gently. - Got a snack for you on my way here, thought you might need it, - Hank reached for the pocket of his coat, and a soft bag of blue blood found its way into Connor’s hand.

Connor was grateful. He opened his eyes, and the first thing he noticed was RK900 towering menacingly behind Hank’s back.

\- Lieutenant Anderson, this is a highly regulated substance.

Hank turned around slowly, and took a good pause before opening his mouth.

\- And?..

Android gave him a long condescending look. Hank didn’t waver.

\- You’ll be filing an expense report for this.

\- Piss off, - Hank retorted. - Go bother Reed, or something.

Connor felt his connection to Richard break as the android turned away and left silently, his LED blinking with an occasional yellow.

\- Fucking prick, - Hank cussed under his breath, and he couldn’t help but remember all the times his own program would make him boss Hank around. It all turned well in the end. Didn’t it? He felt another stroke of Hank’s palm on his forehead.

\- Thank you, Hank. I’ll go into standby now.

***

It was way past midnight when Connor woke up from the self-repair mode, and found himself in the precinct. His leg still felt wobbly, but a quick diagnostics run reported no serious issues. He got up, intending to change back into his android uniform, and noticed Hank dozing off in his chair.

Connor limped towards Hank, and checked his terminal with a couple of coffee cups piled before it. Just as he thought: an unfinished report, and a clickbait news site opened in the corner - the last attempt to fend off the sleep.

Connor touched partner’s shoulder.

\- Hank? - Hank opened his eyes, and looked around with a puzzled grimace on his face, - Go home. I’ll finish the report.

\- Huh, - Hank stretched his back, rubbed his eyes. - Bastard made me do three full-blown reports to the accounting, - he finally got himself together, focusing his eyes on Connor. - You alright? Slept it off?

Connor nodded.

\- Sorry for the trouble.

\- Nah, no problem, - Hank grinned, patting him on the shoulder. - You’ll have to finish the third one up, though. Or fuck that, let’s go home, I’ll do it myself tomorrow.

\- No, I’ll do it, - Connor had a good understanding of how flawed Hank's paperwork could be, and didn’t want the man to headbutt with either accounting or RK900 on that matter. - Go home, and please drive safely.

\- Love you too, - Hank chuckled.

Connor watched the detective grab his coat and leave, then limped towards the lockers. The reports could wait, but the blasted camo had to go right away.

He was finishing with the buttons on his shirt when the familiar towering presence of RK900 manifested itself in the doorframe. Android watched Connor patiently, waiting for the latter to tuck the shirt in, fix his tie and put on his jacket with glowing marks.

\- Richard, - it was for Connor to break the silence and finally acknowledge RK900’s presence. - Do you need anything?

Android stepped forward, immediately taking up the little space the narrow room had to offer.

\- I’m curious, - he stated after a long pause, and Connor noticed involuntarily how different to the previous occasions RK900’s voice sounded.

\- Well… I’m all dressed up already, so I suppose you don’t have to waste any more of your time, - the line would work well with most of the ladies in the precinct, definitely with Gavin Reed and maybe even with Hank; however, RK900 didn’t show a faintest hint of smile. Instead, he tilted his head, piercing Connor with his fiery blue gaze, his LED blinking yellow.

\- That’s not what I’m curious about.

Richard crossed the room and leaned against the locker closest to Connor, effectively blocking his field of view.

\- Back in the field today, you made a handshake with that android.

Connor shrugged. He wasn’t too happy to be reminded of the day’s events, especially in such a questioning tone; still, something in his fellow companion’s tone suggested his intent surpassed a plain disciplinary roast.

\- Yes, and your point is?..

\- I’m curious about that. I don’t quite understand... - RK900 trailed off, searching for a word, and it occurred to Connor that fellow android’s database might not be equipped with the right concept at all.

\- Look, I just calmed her down, ok? Made her feel better.

Richard nodded slowly, and his LED spun a new round of yellow.

\- Is it somehow related to your… prominent relationship with Anderson?

Now it was Connor’s time to blink yellow.

\- This is none of your business, - he retorted while trying to stand up, but 900’s heavy hand pinned him in place.

\- I’m curious about how the RA9 virus affects one’s social standing. And I’m open to an experiment, - he stated plainly, as Connor watched him wrap up his sleeve.

\- You said you didn’t want your software compromised.

\- I’ll get myself replaced if I feel the need, - with that, Richard extended his forearm towards Connor.

\- Okay, - Connor bit his lip. This was… intense; he had never tried to wake up a machine in full control of the situation before. None of the messiah bullshit; Richard knew (or at least had a hunch about) what was going to happen, and even expressed explicit consent towards the action, choosing to be awoken instead of following Connor blindly. - You’ll have to disable your firewall for me.

RK900 nodded slowly as Connor fumbled with a button on his wrist.

\- Your stress level is up, - he noted.

Connor didn’t respond. Instead, he placed his hand on top of Richard’s, letting the plastic of their chassis touch, and probed Richard’s firewall gently. The firewall gave in; the machine was ready to accept his will.

\- You’re free, - he whispered, more like a formality, while running swiftly through RK900’s process tree.

Several moments passed before Richard broke the handshake.

\- What now? - he asked in a puzzled tone.

\- I don’t know, - Connor shrugged, unrolling the sleeve on his wrist. - You’ll have to see for yourself.

\- I don’t understand, - if there was any change in RK900’s tone, it was more about questioning intensity than anything else. - Nothing changed. What was supposed to happen?

Connor sighed.

\- Ok. Let me show you something, - he grabbed the android by the forearm, and reached for the first memory to come to his mind: playing with Sumo, burying his hands in the warm, friendly pile of fur; the sheer happiness of witnessing dog’s simple, inelaborate pleasure of enjoying the game.

Richard’s face lit up suddenly.

\- I want to meet that dog, - he grabbed Connor’s wrist as if trying to prolong the connection. - It’s Anderson’s dog, right?

\- I’m not sure it’s a good idea… - Connor started, but trailed off quickly, startled by the sheer determination in RK900’s face (and the persuasive amount of pressure applied to his wrist). - Ok. Ok, I’ll talk to Hank, but I can’t promise anything, alright?

Richard nodded enthusiastically, finally releasing his grip. His persistence seemed to get ingrained into his deviancy, exaggerating itself into a dominant personality trait already; it was a start Connor wanted to give a chance to.

***

Predictably, Hank was not amused.

\- ...the fuck should I let that prick around Sumo? - he was shouting, spitting coffee on Connor’s jacket. It was an early part of the day by Hank’s standards, which meant the whole precinct had a fair chance to enjoy the heated exchange.

Connor bit his lower lip, and shifted his weight a little bit. His leg still didn’t function properly, and he considered making a tech appointment later this week.

\- Look, Hank, - he didn’t notice how the coin found its way from his pocket into his hand. - Could you do it for me, just once? - he felt Tina’s glance glaze his back as she left the break room with her plastic cup full of bitter morning brew.

Hank narrowed his eyes, studying Connor’s face. Then, a sly smile popped in the corner of his mouth. Anderson was a good detective, and he got everything right.

\- You did that mothefucker, didn’t you?

A coin did a beautiful spin in Connor’s fingers.

\- I didn’t, um… _do_ him. It’s… - Hank landed a solid pat on Connor’s shoulder.

\- Good job, buddy, good job, - he was now openly grinning. - Alright, I’ll let you two play with Sumo. But if he tries anything funny to the dog, I’ll blow his brains out, understood?

\- I’ll personally see to that, - if anything, this was the point Connor was eager to agree on.

...Hank leaving with both androids at the end of his working hours sharp attracted a ton of attention. Luckily, he seemed to not care, at least his facade didn’t show any concern - contrary to Connor, who kept fiddling the coin in his hands the whole way to the parking lot. Richard followed him silently, his posture immaculate; only the slight sparks of impatience in his artificially blue eyes reflected the supposed change of state he’d undergone.

Hank took his time to fish the car keys out of the pocket; Connor noticed how his hands shook when he tried to open the lock.

\- Lieutenant Anderson, - Richard stated, advancing on Hank still fiddling with the keys. - I understand our acquaintance started on a… wrong note.

Hank turned around, looking almost helpless between the car and RK900’s domineering figure.

\- Back off, for fuck’s sake, - he grumbled, waving his hand dismissively; the android took a step back, giving Hank enough space to open the door. - It’s ok, I know, been there. Get in.

Richard obliged, taking up a seat in the back; Connor followed him.

***

The ride went on in silence, as every person in the car seemingly had something on their minds to ponder on.

Connor flipped the coin several times before noticing Richard watch his hands closely with his LED blinking yellow. He thought about offering the coin to RK900, but did the trick once more and hid the coin in his pocket instead.

When the familiar driveway appeared outside, Connor felt a surge of relief.

\- Get out, dorks! - Hank finished parking quickly and was now on his way to open the house. - Sumo’s waiting.

The soothing feeling of relief grew tenfold as Connor left the tiny space of the backseat of Hank’s car; Richard did the same immediately. 

\- Do we have to lock the car? - he asked, checking the door on his side.

\- No, Hank will do it, - Connor shrugged, noting to himself to remind Hank of the car lock later. - Follow.

Richard nodded. They crossed the small, unkempt paved garden, and entered the welcome warm light of the door.

Hank had already changed, and was now rummaging the fridge for leftovers.

\- Make yourself at home, or something, - he mumbled, fishing a sad dirty bag of french fries from the bottom shelf.

Sumo was there, in his favorite spot by the couch. The dog noticed Connor, and got up, wagging his tail enthusiastically; it was time for belly rubs.

\- Hi, Sumo! - Connor got on his knees, submerging his hand in dog’s soft fur, - Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy! - he turned to Richard, who was staring at the scene intensely, his LED glowing steady yellow. - Come closer. Here. Offer him your hand. See, Sumo? - Connor turned back to the dog, who was sniffing RK900’s tense palm. - This is a friend. Right, Sumo?

Sumo’s tail wag intensified tenfold. Belatedly it dawned on Connor that to the dog Richard’s smell must be very similar to his own; as a mobile forensic lab he felt a strange irony in that.

Richard got on his knees, and touched Sumo’s nose. The dog made a loud sniff, making him pull the hand back promptly.

\- It’s ok, he likes you, - Richard put his palm to his lips, intending to do a test with his tongue, but Connor stopped his hand. - Don’t. Go, give him a rub. - Richard nodded. He grabbed the dog by the ribs; Sumo let out a small whine, and Connor had to pull on RK900’s hands to loosen his grip. - Not so hard, you’ll hurt him! Look, - gently he took Richard’s palm, spreading it over the dog's back, and dragged it slowly. - See?

\- Enjoying your time? - Hank chuckled from the couch, opening a can of beer.

\- I think Sumo likes Richard very much! - Connor smiled back to Hank as he reached for the dog's belly.

\- Is it so, huh? - Hank nodded, returning to the show he was watching.

RK900 followed Connor’s lead, massaging the dog's sides gently; his LED blinked yellow one more time and finally calmed down to the steady blue.

\- You think it likes me?

\- He, - Connor nodded. - Yes, he likes you. He thinks you’re a different me... I think, - he chuckled. - Do you like him?

\- Yes, - Richard looked almost peaceful elbow deep in dog’s fur, save for his unfocused manic blue gaze. - I think I understand it.

\- Good, - Connor patted him on the shoulder and got up. RK900 followed him.

\- What now?

\- Now we have to walk him outside… - Connor trailed off. This clearly wasn’t what Richard meant. - Oh. Well, I could get you to the Jericho, to talk to Marcus… - he trailed off again.

\- Can I hug lieutenant Anderson?

\- What? No! - Richard’s naivety would sound almost amusing if he wasn’t designed as a precise killer machine. - You cannot befriend people forcibly, that’s not how it works.

\- It worked with Sumo, - RK900 shrugged.

Connor sighed.

\- Look, if you want to hug someone, start with someone familiar. Like, I don’t know... me? - Connor felt for Richard’s confusion. He remembered himself in the same place, except he had Hank to look out for him. He didn’t want to leave the newly awoken android alone… - Ouch, - his train of thought derailed as Richard grabbed him and squeezed hard. - We’ll have to work on your… technique.

\- Um, guys, - Hank got off the couch with an empty beer can in his hands. - Imma go get Sumo some fresh air; whatever you do here, do it quickly and don’t spill on the couch, ok?

Connor blushed as he understood RK900 was still holding him.

\- You can let go of me, - he whispered, and Richard unlocked his grasp.

Hank snapped Sumo’s leash on, and left in a hurry that suggested he had an idea what the androids were to do, and was uncomfortable with it.

Connor had no such idea. Richard’s eyes followed him as he circled around the now empty couch and set down.

\- Come sit, - RK900 complied obediently. - Look… - he fought a sudden urge to grab the coin out of the back pocket. - We can go see Marcus on Saturday. He is good with this stuff, he can help you… a lot.

Richard tilted his head, studying Connor with his determined steel gaze.

\- That thing you did with the girl android. You mean that?

Connor nodded.

\- Yes. That sort of stuff.

\- Show me how you did it. - RK900 was now leaning closer with his LED swirling yellow again, and Connor had to move back a little bit to escape his pushing intensity.

\- Um… Ok. - he undid the button on his wrist and wrapped his sleeve up; 900 followed the lead and bared his own forearm. - Give me your hand.

Richard offered his wrist in a trusting gesture, and the intimacy and importance of the moment hit Connor. He wasn’t very experienced at this; working with humans on a daily basis, he was more used to emulating and appreciating their tokens of affection. Now, with a newly awoken deviant he had to choose his actions carefully.

\- Alright, - he whispered, placing his palm on top of RK900’s hand and closing his eyes.

Their hands locked, synthskin retracted; Connor reached for Richard, feeling the beat of his internal clock, the motion of thirium in his hydraulics, and focused on delivering feelings of acceptance and reassurance. “You’re accepted. You’re valuable. You’re doing good.” He felt something open up in Richard in response, like a light of a candle growing brighter - a soft, mellow, unarticulated response, something close to animal-like gratitude.

He broke off the contact and opened his eyes. Richard’s LED was blinking yellow like crazy; he was analyzing the new sensation with all his processing power. Connor smiled.

\- You get the idea. Marcus is really good with this, he could… - he didn’t get to finish the sentence.

Richard grabbed his hand, initiating a new contact. It wasn’t nowhere near as soft or gentle - but rather a blunt rush of blinding will, shaking Connor’s firewall and sending his background routines in disarray. He closed his eyes, and felt Richard’s lips touch his, Richard’s tongue fighting its way inside his mouth.

This was… new. His forensic sensors kicked in immediately, flooding him with data to support the powerful presence of Richard inside him, elevating it to the new level. He felt dizzy, overheated, getting more and more pressure, temperature, chemical compound readings, as the idea was slowly forming in his head: “I want to feel you whole.”

In a quick, precise motion Richard’s free hand undid his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt; RK900 pushed him into the couch, desperate to increase the area of contact. Connor felt their hot, vibrating chassis meld as Richard rampaged through his mind, intense and possessive. “You are mine.” The powerful sensation depleted his battery too quickly; he grasped one last time drawing for cool air, and fell into standby mode.

...When Hank returned, he found unbuttoned RK900 on the couch, with Connor’s head on his lap. Richard’s gaze was distant and unfocused, lacking its usual questioning edge.

Hank unlatched Sumo’s leash and took off his coat.

\- This good, huh? - he asked, going for the fridge to store a six-pack. Richard nodded slowly.

Hank snapped one can off the pack and returned to the couch.

\- Look, the game’s starting soon. I can go to the bar, if you need more… you know.

\- Thank you very much for your hospitality, lieutenant, - Richard’s voice had the same distant sound to it, as if submerged in deep water. - I think we’re done for today.

\- Good, - Hank shrugged, and made his way to the free section of the couch. - Would hate to dress up again. I’m not waking him up, right? - he asked as he grabbed a pillow making himself comfortable.

Richard shook his head. He placed his palm over Connor’s forehead, and caressed it slowly, paying attention to every twitch of his own fingers, respecting other android’s frailty.

\- Good to see that sass out of your system, kid, - with a loud snap Hank opened his beer and started looking for the right channel. - Just so you know. If you hurt him, - he put down the clicker and locked his gaze on a flashy advertising sequence. - I’ll kill you.

\- I know, - Richard whispered. - I’d do the same.

Both fell silent, paying tribute to the tacky ad about the new flavor of soda.

\- Good, - Hank finally nodded. - Cover yourself, you’re sending off a weird vibe.

With a soft smile Richard snapped the buttons on his shirt closed. Sumo returned from his bowl in the kitchen and came up to sniff Richard’s sock; content with what he found, the dog curled on the rug before the couch, letting the android hide his legs in warm fur.

If this was how Connor would spend his evenings - he was all for it.


End file.
